


The Anniversary

by PrairieChzHead (msannomalley)



Series: Lost Causes [10]
Category: The Trixie Belden Mysteries - Julie Campbell Tatham & Kathryn Kenny
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-08 01:51:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12854163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msannomalley/pseuds/PrairieChzHead
Summary: A bit of wedding anniversary fluff that takes place in the late 1980s.





	The Anniversary

The number eight is important. It's important because I'm eight years old. Both Mama and Daddy have eights in their ages. They're both 38. And it's 1988. So there are a lot of eights going on.

Eight is also scary because my sister Kathleen told me once that when both Mama and Daddy were eight, Daddy's dad, my grandpa, died and both Mama's mama and daddy died, too. Kathleen says that when your mama and daddy die, it means your an orphan. Sometimes I'm scared that my mama and daddy are going to die, too. Maddie, my best friend, says that it sounds scary, but she doesn't think that my mama and daddy are going to die.

My name is Regan Mangan and like I said, I'm eight years old. I have a sister, like I also said. Her name is Kathleen and she thinks she's so cool because she's ten years old. She thinks I'm a baby because I'm only eight. I can't help it that I'm eight and just because she's ten doesn't mean she's better than I am, even though she thinks she is.

I have a brother, too. My brother's name is Tim and he's thirteen. He spends most of his time locked up in his room, listening to the stereo at full blast, until either Mama or Daddy tell him to turn it down. I don't go in Tim's room because it's messy and it smells like dirty socks. Tim listens to a lot of stuff like Poison and Warrant and Motley Crue. One time, I got in trouble because I was singing some of the words to one of those songs. Daddy said that it wasn't something I should be singing around the house.

Tim can be nice, though. If he's around when Kathleen teases me, he teases her back ten times worse.

I'm the only kid in the family that is not named after those grandparents I never met. Tim actually has two middle names because I guess when he was born, Mama and Daddy couldn't agree on a middle name so they gave him two middle names. So Tim is named after my Grandpa Mangan, my Grandpa O'Brien, and my daddy.

Kathleen is named after both of my grandma's, because both of them were named Kathleen. Kathleen is also named after Mama because, I guess, when she was born, Daddy insisted that if Tim had Daddy's name as a middle name, then Kathleen had to have Mama's name as her middle name.

I'm named after my great-uncle. Not his first name, but his last name. Kathleen says that I should be lucky I wasn't named with Uncle Bill's first name, because then all the kids at school would laugh at me because my name was Whilamina. But then she says that I wasn't named after Uncle Bill, but I was named after some girl in a movie who barfed up pea soup and her head spun around. Then she would start calling me "pea soup breath" or Whilamina until either Mama or Daddy or both of them at the same time would tell her to knock it off. Once, Mama got so mad at her for calling me names, she decided that Kathleen couldn't go to her friend's birthday party, but instead she had to stay home and help Mama around the house. Kathleen was really mad about that, but I wasn't. Served her right. Especially when Mama told her to go to Tim's room to get the dirty clothes.

Both my brother and sister look like my daddy, but I look like my mama.

Let me tell you about my mama and my daddy.

First, I'll tell you about my mama. Mama is the smartest and the prettiest woman in the whole world. And she's really funny sometimes, too. Like this one time, when I was sitting at the table, eating a snack. Tim was up in his room, as usual. I was asking Mama all kinds of questions about all kinds of things when all of a sudden this loud noise came from Tim's room.

 

Cause baby we'll be  
At the drive-in  
In the old man's Ford  
behind the bushes  
till I'm screamin' for more  
Down the basement  
lock the cellar door  
And baby  
Talk dirty to me

Now most people's parents would be screaming at them to turn that godawful racket down. Not Mama. Very calmly, she went over to the boombox on the counter, turned it on, and fiddled with the dial until she found a station, and then she turned the volume knob all the way up and some guy or girl, I don't know which, started wailing:

Weeeeeeeeeeeellllllllll....  
I like bread and butter  
I like toast and jam  
That's what baby feeds me  
'Cause I'm her lovin' man.

"All right, all right," I heard Tim yell down the stairs. "I'll turn it down. Just don't play that song again, Mom."

Mama yelled back up the stairs. "Keep it down and I won't." Then she turned the volume down, before changing the station to something else.

"Mama," I asked. "Is that a man or a girl singing that bread and butter song?"

"You know, Regan," she said. "I don't really know myself. I know I can't stand that song." Then she laughed. Mama has a really pretty laugh.

Mama works for my Aunt Trixie and my Aunt Honey. She answers the phones and stuff like that. She says it's not a glamorous job, but she gets to have the weekends off. Mama used to do people's hair, but she got tired of having to work on Saturdays when we were all home from school and Daddy didn't have to go to work. Mama still does our hair, though and she trims Daddy's hair for him sometimes, even though he wears it kind of long. Not long like Mama's is, but longish, I guess. Daddy doesn't like short hair, even though I heard Maddie's Grandma Wheeler say that my Daddy shouldn't be wearing his hair long at his age. Maddie's Grandma Wheeler is kind of funny. Not funny like Mama is. More like strange-funny. I don't like to go to her house because you have to be quiet and they have maids and stuff like that and you can't touch anything or run and play because you might break something.

Mama's real name is Michelle, but I don't call her that. Daddy calls her that or he calls her 'Chelle. Maddie calls her Aunt Michelle, even though she isn't really Maddie's aunt. Mama is John and Christina's aunt. John and Christina live in Nebraska with Aunt Mary. Aunt Mary is my only "real" aunt and John and Christina are my only "real" cousins, and they're on Mama's side of the family. John and Christina are all grown up now. John goes to college and Christina is going to graduate from high school this spring. I don't have any real aunts or uncles or cousins on Daddy's side of the family, other than Uncle Bill. Daddy was an only child.

My daddy's real name is Dan, and I don't call him that, either. Mama does, though, and other grown-ups do, too. Maddie calls my daddy Uncle Dan, even though he's not her real uncle. I asked him why Maddie calls him Uncle Dan and calls Mama Aunt Michelle even though Maddie isn't their niece. Daddy said it was because he and Mama were her "courtesy aunt and uncle". When I didn't understand what that meant, he explained that it was an honor to have Maddie call him Uncle Dan. Just like it was an honor for me to call Maddie's mom and dad Aunt Honey and Uncle Mart.

My daddy is the handsomest and the strongest and the smartest man in the whole world. When I grow up and it's time to get married, I'm going to marry a man just like my daddy. When I was a littler girl, I wanted to marry my daddy when I grew up, but Kathleen said I couldn't because Mama was already married to Daddy.

Daddy works with my Uncle Bill at the horse farm. A long time ago, before I was even born, Uncle Bill used to work for Maddie's grandma, but he got some money and some land and decided to raise horses himself. Sometimes people send their horses to the horse farm for a visit and it's my daddy's job and my uncle's job to take care of them. Other times, people go to my uncle to learn to ride horses. I want to learn to ride a horse someday and Daddy promised I could learn sometime. Sometimes Daddy doesn't work with the horses and he works in the office instead. An even longer time ago, Daddy used to work with cows and when he was working with cows, he met Mama. Daddy was working for my uncle Dick in Nebraska. Uncle Dick died before I was born. Anyway, Mama wasn't living there, but she came back for a visit and that's when she met Daddy.

My daddy can be funny like Mama is funny. But there are things that make Daddy nervous. Daddy won't go to the fireworks because the noise makes him jumpy. For a long time, none of us went. But last year he told Mama to take us because all of us kids wanted to go and we were tired of having to listen to the other kids talk about how cool the fireworks were. Mama asked him if he was sure, and Daddy said it was okay and he'd be fine and there was no reason that the kids shouldn't get to see them if they wanted to.

Once, when I stayed overnight at Maddie's house, I heard Aunt Honey and Uncle Mart talking and they said that blood used to make Daddy jumpy but he got over it when I was born because he had to. I was born in our bathroom, the one downstairs that everyone uses, not the one that you can only get to by going in Mama and Daddy's room. Mama couldn't get to the hospital in time and Daddy had to help her because I was "coming too fast". Kathleen used to make fun of me for being born in the bathroom until Mama heard her and got really, really mad at Kathleen and sent her to her room. Kathleen called me a "poop head" that day, but she didn't say the word poop. She said the other word.  Mama was so mad at Kathleen, she even said "Wait until your father gets home." I can count the times Mama has said that on my fingers. She said it to Tim once when he did something bad. Some kids' moms say that, but mine doesn't unless we did something really, really bad. Daddy came home and Mama told him and I don't know what Daddy said to Kathleen, but Kathleen never did it again. But she had to go with Daddy to Uncle Bill's every day for a month and she wasn't happy about it at all. Uncle Bill made her clean tack and he's really, really picky about how it's done.

My daddy has a tattoo on his arm. It's not a fancy picture, though, just words with a heart around it. It has Daddy's real name and Mama's real name and the numbers 3-26-74. I asked him what the numbers meant and he said that it was the day that he and Mama got married, March 26th, 1974. He said that he went and got it done right after the ceremony.

When I was little, littler than I am now, Daddy used to tell me about the fairy shoemaker. He knows a lot of songs and stories and things that his mama used to tell him when he was a little boy. I can't imagine my daddy as a little boy, though.

We live in a house on Glen Road near Sleepyside in New York. It used to belong to a lady named Mrs. Elliot, but she got old and had to go to the nursing home. Daddy said that Mrs. Elliot used to grow a lot of flowers here, but as she got older, she had to give it up. There are some flowers that still come up every year and they are really, really pretty. Mama doesn't try to grow anything herself because she says that she has a "black thumb".

There aren't any flowers up right now yet, because it's only March. The snow is still trying to melt.

We live on Glen Road and Maddie lives on Glen Road in a brand new house that her parents built especially for Maddie's dad. Uncle Mart has "pretend" legs. There's another name for his legs, but it's long and it's hard to say right. When he isn't wearing his pretend legs, he sits in a wheelchair and Aunt Honey took some of her trust fund money to pay for the house to be built. It was made special so when Uncle Mart is in his chair, he can reach things and get around. There's no upstairs in that house. Everything is on the same floor. Maddie's house isn't far from my house.

Uncle Jim and Aunt Barb live on Glen Road, too. Uncle Jim runs a school for orphans and kids who get into trouble worse than what Kathleen or Tim or I ever did. Uncle Jim and Aunt Barb have twins who are six years old. I don't play with them much right now because they're just Kindergarten babies. When they get out of Kindergarten, then I'll play with them. Maybe. They're twin boys, Bob and Jamie.

Maddie's grandma lives in a humongous house on Glen Road, too. She's really rich and has a lot of teas and parties and boring stuff like that. She stays in the house most of the time when she isn't having parties or going to parties, but she doesn't care if we go swim in the lake there in the summer. There's this little house at the edge of the yard that Maddie and I checked out once. I think it would make a really neat clubhouse, if we had a club. I told Daddy about it and he said that it used to be a clubhouse when he was a kid.

The Beldens live on Glen Road, too. We go there every year at Thanksgiving because Aunt Helen throws a big party and all the neighbors come to it. Uncle Mart and Aunt Honey come, and we go, and Uncle Bill goes, and Uncle Jim and Aunt Barb go to it. Uncle Brian comes in from the city when he can to go to it. Sometimes he can't because he's a doctor and if he's on call, he has to stay home in case someone calls him. Old Mr. Lytell goes, too. He runs the store on Glen Road. Mr. Lytell is positively ancient, but he still runs the place. Uncle Bobby comes, too, when he can get back from Washington DC.

Aunt Helen is the closest thing to a real grandma I have. I know she's not my real grandma, though. Once in awhile, when Mama and Daddy go out, we get to stay overnight at the Beldens and Aunt Helen has cookies and hot chocolate and reads me stories. Sometimes I help her make cookies and stuff like that. One time at school, we had Grandparents Day and she and Uncle Peter came with me as my grandma and grandpa because she said that I shouldn't be made to feel left out.

Aunt Trixie doesn't live on Glen Road. She lives in Sleepyside and there's no honorary uncle that lives with her. There used to be, but they got a divorce. Aunt Trixie goes out on a lot of dates or she hangs out at my uncle Bill's stables.

But it's March now. There's snow on the ground yet, but it's trying to melt and nothing is growing yet.  It still gets cold, but it's a lot warmer than it was in January.

Today is Saturday. I was sitting in front of the television in my pajamas with my bowl of cereal that I got myself because Mama and Daddy slept in on the weekends and I didn't want to wake them up. Tim was up in his room, and would be until he was told to come out and do his chores. Kathleen was in her room, too, probably listening to her Tiffany tape. Mama doesn't like Kathleen's Tiffany tape because, as Mama says, this Tiffany had the gall to butcher a Beatles' song.

But I was watching cartoons and I could hear Mama and Daddy talking from their bedroom. Their bedroom is downstairs, not far from the living room and I think their door was open. Most of the time, it's closed and sometimes, the door is even locked and when it's locked, we're not supposed to knock on it unless the house is on fire or someone has to call 911. I was kind of curious to know what they were saying, so I crept closer to their door. It was only opened a crack.

I know it's wrong to listen to other people when you aren't supposed to, but I couldn't help it. Sometimes grown-ups say the most interesting things when they don't know you're there.

"What do you want to do for our anniversary?" I heard Daddy ask Mama.

"Spend it with you," Mama said to him. Then I heard this wet, smacking sound and I knew that they were kissing. My parents kiss a lot. They kiss each other goodbye and hello and for no reason at all. When they think they're alone or nobody can see them, they kiss for a really long time, like some people on TV do. It's kind of gross, actually.

"Well," I heard Daddy say. "How would you like it if we got reservations to Pacelli's and then we take it from there?"

Daddy must have said something I missed, because I heard Mama say in this voice she only uses around Daddy when she thinks they're alone, "That sounds like fun." Then she said in her normal voice, "But what about the kids?"

"Got it covered," Daddy said. "They're going to Mart's to spend the night."

Oh good! Sleepover at Maddie's! I couldn't wait!

But then I remembered something Mama told me once when I asked her why Grandma and Grandpa O'Brien went to Heaven. Mama told me they were in a bad car accident when they died. She said they went out for their anniversary. And Mama was eight years old. Just like me.

Suddenly, I didn't want Mama and Daddy to go out for their anniversary because I didn't want them to die in a car accident and leave me an orphan.

Somehow I had to tell them not to go and they had to stay home that night. I don't know how I was going to do it, but I was going to have to do it. I couldn't just come right out and say it, though, because Mama would probably ask me if I were on crack or something like that. I couldn't talk to Kathleen about this because she'd just say I was being a baby, and I wasn't sure if I could ask Tim about this, either, mostly because he doesn't come out of his room unless he has to and his bedroom scares me.

I couldn't hear anymore after that because I heard their shower going. So I went back over to the couch and sat down, looking at the television, but not seeing it anymore.  _They can't go! They just can't!_

I had about a week to try and talk them out of going out. Their anniversary was next Friday.

I learned a big word from Uncle Mart once. The word is "subtle" and he told me that subtle means you don't want to come right out and say it. Or something like that. Uncle Mart knows a lot of words, big ones and little ones. So I was going to have to be subtle. I was also going to have to start this right away.

Mama and Daddy came out of their room at the same time and I don't think they realized I was watching TV because they were kissing again in the yucky way they do when they think none of us kids are around. I shrank into the couch so they wouldn't know that I was there, although I think that they might have known someone was there since the TV was on. I don't know about my parents sometimes.

"Good morning, Regan," Daddy said to me when they came into the living room. He ruffled my hair.

"Morning, Daddy," I said. "Morning, Mama."

"Good morning, Regan," Mama said. "Did you sleep well?"

"Uh-huh," I said. Both of them were dressed and both of them had wet hair. Mama and Daddy must take awfully quick showers for both of them to have one before the hot water gets all used up. "And I got my own cereal, too," I added, pointing to the now soggy bowl of cereal that was sitting on the end table.

"Don't forget to put it in the kitchen when you're done," Mama reminded me.

"I won't," I said.

"Your brother and sister still upstairs?" Daddy asked me.

"Uh-huh," I nodded.

"When your show is over, go and tell them they've got their chores to do," Daddy said. "You do, too," he added. We all had work we had to do on Saturdays. We had to clean up our rooms and then help Mama and Daddy with whatever jobs they wanted us to help them with.

My parents went into the kitchen, no doubt for their breakfast. Saturday mornings were fend for yourself, but on Sundays, Mama would get up a little earlier and make a big breakfast for all of us.

I didn't pay much attention to the end of the show. My mind was still trying to figure out what to do about this anniversary thing.

The show ended, so I went to take my cereal bowl into the kitchen. Mama and Daddy were sitting at the table with cups of coffee and they were talking about grown-up stuff and it seemed that they didn't know I was in the room. I set the bowl on the counter.

"Don't forget to rinse it out, Regan," Mama reminded me. She looked at me over her shoulder briefly before turning her attention back to Daddy. I heard her say something about wanting to get a new dress for the anniversary and she was thinking about going to White Plains this afternoon to do it. Mama isn't much of a shopper and she makes it a point to stay away from the malls on Saturdays. Mama goes when she knows what she's going there for and she goes in and gets it and leaves. Kathleen hates when Mama does this. Kathleen could spend hours in the mall. Sort of like Maddie's mom. Aunt Honey can spend hours at the mall and she buys all sorts of things. Mama doesn't like the mall because, as she says, "I have to park in Mongolia and it's too much of a pain dodging the teenagers and the rich ladies who have nothing better to do than spend money."

Well, I rinsed out the bowl and wondered if maybe I should just come right out and tell my parents that they can't go out on their anniversary. This anniversary business was doing strange things to my mother.

They were here and I should tell them. I had to tell them.

"Mama. Daddy," I said, probably a little louder than I should have. They both looked at me.

"Yes?" Mama said. They were waiting for me to continue.

I couldn't say it. The words disappeared. "Never mind," I mumbled, looking at the floor. What a time to chicken out! Mama and Daddy just looked at each other in a puzzled way.

I couldn't get out of the kitchen fast enough. As I raced out of there, I could hear Daddy say to Mama, "I wonder what's up with her?" to which Mama said, "I don't know."

I went up to my room and I got dressed. I started taking the sheets off my bed and picking up my dirty clothes, but then I remembered that Daddy said to tell Tim and Kathleen that they had work to do.

I went to Kathleen's room first. I knocked on the door, but there was no answer. I knocked again. No answer. I tried it a third time and still no answer. So I just opened the door, even though we're not supposed to just barge into rooms when the door is closed. Mama said we were supposed to respect each other's privacy.

I opened Kathleen's door a little and I tried not to start laughing because she was holding her hairbrush in her hand and dancing around to her stupid Tiffany tape and pretending to sing to it. It's always a good thing when I get ammunition against my sister. I was going to have to tell Tim about this.

"Daddy says you're supposed to do your chores," I said loudly. Kathleen jumped in surprise and then she looked really mad at me. I tried not to giggle.

"In a minute," she snapped at me. Her face was red. Even though it was mean of me, I was enjoying her embarrassment.

"Now," I said.

"In a minute," she repeated. I knew how long her "minute" lasted and I knew that either Mama or Daddy would be up here before long to tell her she had chores to do and she'd better do them.

Then I went to Tim's room. I knocked on the door. I was about to knock again, but he stuck his head out. I heard some guy singing that she was only seventeen and her daddy says she's too young but she was old enough for the singer. I don't know about that. Seventeen is practically grown up.

"What?" Tim demanded.

"Daddy says you're supposed to do your chores," I told him.

"Alright," Tim grumbled. He shut the door and I heard him switch off the stereo before he came out of his room. He was wearing the rumpled t-shirt and the sweatpants he usually slept in. His dark hair was all messed up, too. He mumbled something about breakfast and started to go downstairs. I went back to my room to get the dirty clothes. Usually, I left the hamper outside the door and Mama would come and get it, since it was too hard for me to carry downstairs by myself. But I decided that I would do it myself today.

It was hard to get that thing down the stairs, but I did it and I only spilled it once. I dragged the thing across the floor, through the living room and into the kitchen. There was a laundry room/service porch/mud room just off the kitchen. Tim was sitting at the table, eating cereal and both Mama and Daddy were still in the kitchen, but Mama was rinsing dishes now and putting them into the dishwasher and Daddy had his coat on because he had some things to do outside. The plastic hamper made scraping noises against the floor, so they all heard me.

"Did you carry that downstairs all by yourself?" Daddy asked me.

"Uh-huh," I said proudly. "And I only spilled it once, too."

"Good for you," Mama said to me and she smiled.

"Where's your sister?" Daddy asked me.

I tried not to giggle because I remembered her dancing around her room. "She's in her room pretending to be Tiffany," I said. "She was dancing around and singing into her brush." Tim snorted and Mama turned around and wouldn't look at us, but her shoulders were shaking a little.

Daddy went upstairs and I followed him, but he went to Kathleen's room and I went to mine to finish picking up. As I put my toys away, I could hear him talking to her.

"You know if you don't get your work done, Kathleen, you can't go to your friend's house. You know the rules." We all knew the rules. We had to do our chores first before we could go to our friends' house or play or anything. We had work to do, but we never had so much work that we could never have fun. Daddy made sure of that. He said something about work building character, but we still had to be able to have our fun, too.

"I know, Dad," she said, clearly irritated.

"The sooner you get it done, the sooner you can go," he said. "I shouldn't have to come up here and tell you this."

"I know," she said, less irritated this time. "Sorry, Dad."

I only had to pick up and straighten up my room. I was too little to run the vacuum cleaner by myself. Not really because I was eight, but because I was kind of small and it was hard for me to move it around. Mama would come up and vacuum and put clean sheets on the bed. My brother and sister were old enough and big enough to vacuum and put new sheets on the bed themselves. So when that was finished, I went downstairs and helped Mama straighten up the living room and fold laundry until it was time for lunch.

After lunch, Kathleen and Tim said that their rooms were clean, so Mama went up to check to see if they really were clean or if they shoved things under the bed. Mama wouldn't let us get away with doing that. When she said they did a good job, she told them they were free to do what they wanted to do, but they had to be home by six if they were going out. They both did. Tim went to his friend Mikey's house and Kathleen went to Jennifer's house. Both of them lived on Albany Post Road.

Mama said she was going to go to White Plains and asked me if I wanted to come along. I didn't want to go because she was getting her Anniversary Dress. So I told her I'd stay home with Daddy.

After Mama left, I went outside by Daddy. He was working on the wood pile. We had a fireplace in the house that we used sometimes, so we had a wood pile. Daddy told me once that when he was a kid, after he came to live here, he spent a lot of time chopping wood and he had to do it with an axe. Now he just cuts it up with a chainsaw.

Daddy was re-stacking some of the wood and I helped him by carrying all the little pieces for him. He took the bigger pieces. It was just me and Daddy and I had his undivided attention, so I thought now was a good time as any to try and tell him that he and Mama can't go out on their anniversary.

"When will I get to learn to ride a horse?" I asked instead.

"In the summer," Daddy said. "After it warms up."

That wasn't good. Mama and Daddy wouldn't be here in the summer. How was I going to tell him this? I had to tell him this. But I had to work up the nerve first.

Daddy asked me about school and I told him about it and I told him how Sammy Mundy got in trouble because he brought a whoopee cushion to school and put it on the teacher's chair. Daddy laughed and laughed and laughed at that. It was funny when my teacher sat on it, but it wasn't funny when she got mad at Sammy. He had to go to the principal's office.

"Mrs. Johnson got so mad her face was red," I said. "And she yelled really loud at Sammy, too."

"Just like his father," Daddy remarked.

"Sammy's dad had to go to the principal's office, too?" I asked, confused. Sammy's dad wasn't in school with us.

"When he was in school," Daddy explained. "He used to pull all kinds of practical jokes and he got sent to the principal's office, too."

"Well," I declared. "I'm never going to the principal's office."

"That's good," Daddy said.

We continued stacking the wood, but we didn't say anything until I finally decided that I just had to tell him he couldn't go out with Mama next Friday night.

"What's it like to be an orphan?" I asked instead in my best grown-up voice.

Daddy stopped what he was doing and looked at me. He thought about it and he looked really serious, too. "It's not much fun," he said. "It's not fun at all."

"Why?" I asked.

Daddy looked thoughtful for a moment before he said anything else. "Because it's no fun when you don't have a Mom and a Dad." Daddy put the piece of wood he was holding down and crouched down so he could look right at me. "Remember when your mom and I went away for a week when you were five and you and your brother and sister stayed at Uncle Bill's?" I nodded. "How was it?"

"It was fun," I said. "But I missed you and Mama. Uncle Bill doesn't make pancakes like Mama does and he didn't read me stories the right way, either." I wondered if being an orphan was like when your parents went on vacation without you. "Is that what it's like?"

"Sort of," Daddy said. "But what happened when the week was up?"

"You and Mama came back," I replied.

"When you're an orphan, your mom and dad don't come back," Daddy said. "And you always miss them and even though you might be living with a relative who loves you, it's not the same as having a mom and a dad."

"When kids become orphans," I asked. "Where do they go?"

"That depends," Daddy said. "If they have relatives, they go and live with them. If they don't have relatives, then they go to an orphanage. Your grandma and your uncle Bill lived in an orphanage for awhile."

"Did you?" I asked.

"No," Daddy said and he paused for a bit, like he was thinking again. "No, I didn't. I came to live here."

"Did Mama go to an orphanage?"

"No," Daddy said. "Her brother took care of her. He was already a grown-up at the time." Daddy looked like he wanted to say something else, but he didn't.

I guess Mama and Daddy were lucky that they had relatives to live with instead of having to go and live in a strange place. But then I wondered if I would have to go and live in an orphanage. I asked Daddy about this.

"No," Daddy said. "You'd go and live with Uncle Bill." Then he looked at me strangely. "Why all this interest in orphans?" he asked me.

"I read a story about it," I said. It was a not true, exactly. But it was too hard and too scary to say why.

* * *

 

Mama came home carrying a dress that was covered up with some plastic. She wouldn't let Daddy see it, though. She let me see it, but she made me promise that I wouldn't tell Daddy about it. "It's a surprise," she told me.

"For the anniversary?" I blurted.

Mama looked at me funny. "Yes," she said. "For the anniversary. We're going out."

"All of us?" I asked, fearful for a minute that I'd have to go with them.

"No," she said. "Just me and your dad. You're going to sleep over at Maddie's house."

I tried to look excited about sleeping over at Maddie's house, but I couldn't muster it up and I think Mama noticed, because she looked at me funny again.

* * *

 

I wanted to tell Mama not to go out on Friday night, but the words wouldn't come out. On Sunday afternoon, she was baking cookies and I was helping her. Sometimes, it's really easy to get your parents' attention when you're doing something with them. It's not like I can't ever get their attention, but when you're helping them, they tend to talk more. Instead of saying what I wanted to say, I asked her about the orphan thing, just like I had asked Daddy yesterday.

"What's it like to be an orphan?"

Mama got this sad look on her face before she said anything. "It's not fun, Regan," she replied.

"That's what Daddy said when I asked him," I said.

"Well," she said. "What else did your daddy say about that?" Mama started dropping cookie dough onto the pan.

"He said that it was sort of like your mom and dad going on a trip, but they don't come home, and he said that sometimes if you don't have any relatives, you have to go live in a strange place, too."

"That's true," Mama said.

"And he also said that you always miss your mom and dad." I turned to Mama. "Do you still miss your mom and dad?"

Mama stopped dropping cookie dough and looked at me seriously. "Yes, I do," she said. "I still miss them."

"Why?" I asked. I always thought that when you were a grown-up, you didn't need to have a mom and a dad anymore.

"Because they're my mom and my dad," Mama said softly. "You still need your parents, even when you're all grown up."

"Why?" I asked again. "I thought that when you are a grown up, you are the boss of yourself."

"You are," Mama said. "But you know when you get a good grade on a paper in school? What do you do?"

"I bring it home and I show it to you and Daddy," I said.

"And then what happens?" she asked me.

"You tell me that I did a good job and that you're proud of me," I said. I think I had an idea of what she was trying to say, but Mama and Daddy don't bring home math papers from work.

I think Mama knew what I was thinking, because she said, "When you're a grown-up, things happen that you wish your parents were around to see. Like when you get married and you have kids or when you finish school. Stuff like that. And sometimes," she added. "You still need their advice."

"Oh," I said. I tried to imagine bringing home a paper from school and nobody was around for me to show it to. That thought was really sad.

"Does that answer your question?" Mama asked.

"Yes," I replied. I really, really didn't want to be an orphan. Poor Mama and Daddy! Having nobody to show their good papers to or to come and watch them in the school programs or even to be there when they got married was just awful! It was awful for me that one time when they had Grandparents Day at school and I didn't have any grandparents. It had to be much worse for them!

 

* * *

 

 

During the next week, I didn't get a chance to tell them not to go. When Mama and Daddy were talking about the anniversary, they sounded excited about it. Didn't they know? I had to tell them, but the chance never came.

I almost had a chance on Wednesday morning. In the mornings, Daddy is usually gone by the time we kids have to get up for school. But Mama is there. When we get home from school, though, Daddy is home and Mama is still at work. I was eating my cereal and my toast when the chance for me to tell Mama that she and Daddy just couldn't go out on their anniversary because I didn't want to become an orphan, but my sister ruined it.

Kathleen came into the kitchen with make-up on her face. It looked funny on her. When Mama wears it, it looks pretty, but it made Kathleen look like a doofus. Her cheeks were this bright pink and her eyes had all this dark blue stuff on them and her lips were really, really red.   She sort of looked like that Tammy Faye lady I saw on TV.

"What's that?" Mama asked her.

"What?" Kathleen said innocently. Tim snickered into his cereal bowl.

"That stuff on your face," Mama said.

"Oh, it's just a little make-up," Kathleen said. "I just wanted to look pretty."

"Pretty ugly," Tim mumbled under his breath and I giggled. Mama gave both of us That Look. The one that meant we'd better be quiet.

"A little?" Mama replied, her voice sharp. Mama folded her arms over her chest. "You know you're not leaving this house until you wash it off."

"Then I guess I'm not going to school then," Kathleen said.

"You're going to wash it off and you're going to school," Mama replied sternly.

"But I can't!" Kathleen wailed. "All the other girls are wearing make-up! I'll be a dork if I don't!"

"You're ten years old, Kathleen," Mama said sharply. "You're not old enough to be wearing that anyway. Not until you're in junior high. Now get in the bathroom and wash that stuff of your face."

Kathleen just looked at Mama in an angry sort of way.

"Now," Mama said.

"Okay, okay," Kathleen grumbled. She made a show of shuffling her feet as she walked to the bathroom. When she came back, Mama said, "And I want you to go and get that stuff and give it to me."

"I can't," Kathleen said.

"Yes, you can," Mama said back.

"I can't," Kathleen repeated. "I sort of went in your bathroom and borrowed yours."

Mama was now doing something that she calls "counting to ten". She counted to ten a lot these days when Kathleen was around.

"We'll discuss this tonight. With your father," Mama said. That meant Kathleen was really going to be in trouble. And I think that Kathleen knew it, too, because she couldn't look at Mama and she started toying with her cereal.

I don't know what's with my sister. She's ten years old, but she acts like she's fourteen and she wants to be even older sometimes. She's always doing things like this and it makes Mama really, really mad, too.  I heard Mama once say something to Daddy about Kathleen and not wanting her to grow up too fast.  Mama said something else about "history repeating itself".  I have no idea what she means by that.

When I was in school that day, it was hard to pay attention because all I could think about was the anniversary. Mrs. Johnson noticed and she made me stay in at recess to do board work. When Kathleen and I got off the bus after school, Daddy was home and he told Kathleen that they would have their talk later, after supper and that she should go upstairs and do her homework right now. I wonder how Daddy knew about what happened this morning?

I didn't get to hear the talk later that night. Mama said I had to go upstairs. I thought I could sit by the top of the stairs and listen, but then Daddy said I should go in my room. How did he know where I was? When I heard Kathleen go into her room, I came out of mine, pretending like I had to go downstairs and use the bathroom. I walked past Mama and Daddy sitting on the couch and Mama was wondering if maybe they should keep their door locked when they weren't home. On the way back, I nearly tripped over my shoelace and then both Mama and Daddy turned around. Mama said, "Isn't it about time for bed, Regan?" When I looked at the clock, sure enough it was already nine. "I'll be up in a minute," she said.

* * *

 

Thursday morning didn't present any chance to tell them not to go out on Friday and I was starting to get worried. If they went out, and I became an orphan, it would be all my fault because I didn't say anything. Maybe the weather would get bad and a snowstorm would come around or something and then they wouldn't go. It was so hard to say it.

I got even more worried when Mama came home from work later than usual and her fingernails were longer and had polish on them. She showed them to me, but it was hard to get excited about that.  _Don't you know that you're going to die tomorrow night?_ I thought. She was going to ask me what was the matter when the phone rang. I didn't know who it was at first, until I heard Mama say, "Tim is busy right now and he can't come to the phone." When she hung up, she just rolled her eyes, and I knew what that was all about. Tim gets a lot of phone calls from girls and they call at all times and they giggle into the phone and stuff like that.

"Didn't you call up boys when you were a kid?" Kathleen asked Mama.

"No," Mama said. "Girls didn't do that sort of thing when I was Tim's age. The boy was supposed to call you first. If you called boys, everyone thought you were weren't a nice girl."

That night, after I was all tucked in, I couldn't sleep. I was too scared to go to sleep. I had to tell Mama and Daddy they couldn't go out. Tomorrow was the anniversary. I tossed and I turned and sleep wouldn't come. So I got up, thinking that maybe if I got a drink of water or something, then I could go to sleep. I went downstairs as quietly as I could. Mama and Daddy were sitting on the couch again and they were all snuggled up together. They do this after all of us kids are in bed. Daddy had his arm around Mama and his fingers were in her hair and her head was resting on his shoulder. I saw a picture of my Mama from a long time ago, around the time she met my Daddy and Mama had really, really long hair then. Now it just went past her shoulders.

As I was walking downstairs, I heard Mama ask Daddy, "Have you noticed anything wrong with Regan lately?"

"Like what?" Daddy asked.

"She seems nervous lately. And the other day, she was asking me about orphans."

"She asked me that, too," Daddy said. "Now that you mention it, she does seem nervous. I wonder why, though?"

"Maybe it's something at school," Mama thought.

They knew. Well, maybe they didn't know, but they knew something was up.

I tried to be quiet as I started walking to the kitchen, but they heard me and both of them looked at me.  "I have to get a drink of water," I said before they could ask me if I shouldn't be in bed.  They just said okay. 

As I got the glass and I held it under the faucet, they were talking again, but they were talking so low, I couldn't hear what they were saying.  As I was drinking the water, I could hear little bits about the anniversary and Mama was using that voice she only uses around Daddy when nobody else is around.  And when Daddy answered her back, he was using that same sort of voice to Mama, too.  It's a strange sort of voice, like they're saying one thing, but they mean something else and I have no idea what that something else is. 

Suddenly, the water didn't taste very good.  I had to warn them.  I had to.  I couldn't put it off anymore. 

I set the glass on the counter and I walked back to the living room and they were talking about the anniversary.  Instead of walking behind the couch to go to the stairs, I walked in front of it, stopped, and put my hands on my hips like Mama does sometimes when she means business. 

"You can't go," I said.  And I meant what I said.  There's another word for it, one of Uncle Mart's big words.  Emphatic. 

Mama and Daddy looked really confused.  "Go where?" Mama asked. 

"To the anniversary," I said.  "You can't go." 

Mama and Daddy looked at each other and they were still confused.  "Why can't we go?" Daddy asked. 

"Because you can't," I replied.  The other part was too terrible for me to say and I couldn't make myself say it.

Mama and Daddy looked at each other again.  "Regan," Mama said.  "Is it because you can't go, too?  You know that sometimes..." 

"No," I interrupted her, even though I knew better.  It's bad manners to interrupt people, especially grown-ups.  "It's not that."  Why didn't they understand? 

"Then what is it?" Daddy asked me. 

"You just can't go," I said and I felt frustrated and it felt like I was going to cry.  I didn't want to cry.  I was a big girl and big girls don't cry.

Mama and Daddy looked at each other again.  "There's got to be a reason why you don't want us to go," Mama said gently.  "Can you tell us?"

"It's bad," I replied.  "It's bad and it's horrible and it's too hard to say." 

"Can you try and tell us?" Daddy asked. 

I gulped.  It was too hard!  But I had to try because they wanted to know.  "If...if you go on the anniversary," I said, my voice almost to a whisper.  I was looking down at my feet.  "If you go on the anniversary, I'll be an orphan."  I could feel tears in my eyes and I was embarrassed about it.  Suddenly, it felt like something was breaking, because I wailed, "I don't want to be an orphan!"  I buried my face in my hands so they wouldn't see me crying.  I missed the look they exchanged, but I felt it when Mama reached out for me.  "Come here," she said.  She helped me onto the couch so I could sit in the space she made between her and Daddy. 

"Why do you think you'll be an orphan if your mom and I go out tomorrow?" Daddy asked me.  I looked up at him and he looked really, really concerned.  I looked at Mama and she looked really, really concerned, too. 

"Because," I said quietly, almost whispering.  "Because Grandma and Grandpa went out on their anniversary and Mama became an orphan.  And she was eight just like me." 

Mama looked like she understood now.  Maybe she'd turn to Daddy and say, "You know, Dan, Regan's right.  Let's stay home."  And then Daddy would say, "Yes, 'Chelle, Regan's right.  Let's stay home." 

But Mama didn't say that.  "Regan," she said.  "Just because that happened to me doesn't mean it's going to happen to you." 

"But I don't want you and Daddy to die!" I said. 

"We don't want to die, either," Daddy said.  "But it's going to happen someday." 

Now I was scared.  Daddy saw that and he looked at Mama as if he were saying "Help me." 

Mama said, "I think what your daddy means is that we're all going to die someday.  We don't know when and we don't know how.  We know it's going to happen.  But you can't be afraid to go out and do normal things."  She looked over at Daddy as if she were saying, "How was that?" 

"Why?"

"Because going out and doing normal things is what life is about," Mama said. 

"Did Grandma and Grandpa know that they were going to die?" I asked her. 

"Not that day," she said.  "They always went out for their anniversary.  That year, it was their twenty-fifth anniversary.  It was an accident." 

"Is it your twenty-fifth anniversary?" I asked them.  My parents just laughed. 

"No," Daddy said.  "If it were, we would have been only thirteen years old when we got married." 

Then they got serious again.  "Sweetie," Mama said.  "Just something happened to me doesn't mean it's going to happen to you.  There are lots of things that happened to me that I hope never, ever happen to you.  Being an orphan is only one of them." 

That didn't sound good.  I wanted to ask what those other bad things were, but I didn't. 

"So," I asked.  "Are you still going to go out tomorrow?" 

"We'd like to," Daddy said.  "After all, your wedding anniversary is a really important day."

I still didn't want them to go.  I felt a little better now that they knew why I didn't want them to go, but I was still kind of wary about them going. 

"Would it make you feel better if we called you when we got to the restaurant?" Mama asked me. 

Actually, that would make me feel a lot better.  Then I'd know that they got there okay and they didn't die.  "Yes," I said. 

"Then we'll do that," Daddy said to me.  Then he smiled at me.   I looked over at Mama and she smiled at me, too. 

"Do you feel better now?"  Mama asked.  "You think you can go to sleep now?"

I nodded.  "But there's something else," I said. 

"What is it?"

"Do you think that if you and Daddy died, and you both went to Heaven, could you still see me?" I asked. 

Daddy just looked over at Mama and she thought about it before she answered.  "I'm sure we would," she said.  "But it's not the same as being here with you." 

"But you could still see me, right?" I asked. 

"Yes," Daddy said. 

"You think both my grandmas and grandpas can see me?" I asked. 

"Yes, they can see you, Regan," Mama said. 

"You think they're proud of me?" I asked. 

"Yes," Mama and Daddy said at the same time. 

"Do you think they're proud of Kathleen, even though she's a dork?  And Tim?  Even though his room smells like dirty socks?"

Daddy was going to laugh, but he coughed instead.  Mama said, "Okay, Regan, you're stalling now."  She tried to sound stern, but she was smiling. 

"One more thing," I said. 

"One more and off to bed," Mama said.  "You've got school tomorrow." 

"Okay," I said.  "You know what I think?"  I didn't wait for either of them to answer.  I just went on.  "I think that both my grandmas and both my grandpas are proud of you, too."  I reached up and I threw my arms around my daddy's neck and I gave him a kiss on the cheek, which wasn't all picky this time.  Sometimes Daddy's face is kind of picky feeling.  "I love you, Daddy," I told him. 

"I love you, too," Daddy said back. 

Then I turned to Mama and I threw my arms around her neck and I kissed her on her cheek, which is never picky, by the way.  "I love you, Mama," I said to her. 

"I love you, too," Mama said to me. 

* * *

 

After my talk, I slept pretty good.  When I woke up the next morning, it just felt special.  Probably because Daddy had the day off from work today.  Mama still had to go, but she was coming home early.  Kathleen was even acting nice for once.  She asked Mama if Mama could braid her hair and then I decided I wanted Mama to braid my hair, too.  Mama can make really good, really tight French braids that don't come out during school. 

All of us kids decided to give Mama and Daddy a present for their anniversary.  Even Tim did.  He gave them a tape by some guy named Led Zeppelin and after they opened it, Tim said, "So you can listen to it in the car." 

I think Mama and Daddy thought Tim's present was funny, because they looked like they were trying not to laugh.  Tim went on.  "I figured it was about time you got into the 80's.  Nobody has 8-track anymore." 

The cover had a building on it, like some of the buildings I saw in the city.  "How did you know?" Mama asked Tim. 

"Let's just say that I listen to other bands besides Warrant," he said and he grinned at her. 

Kathleen was next.  She got Mama and Daddy each a bottle of perfume and cologne.  Daddy's was in a green bottle that said Brut and Mama's was in a spray bottle that said "Designer Imposters" on it. 

"I saved up some of my allowance," Kathleen said sheepishly. 

Then it was my turn.  I got the idea for my present because one time, Daddy bought Mama some candy that came in a fancy box.  I went to Lytell's store to get my present and I wanted to get them a fancy box of candy, but I didn't have enough money, so I had to get them each a Snickers bar. 

"I wanted to get you a fancy box of candy, but I didn't have enough money," I said.  I bought the candy on Tuesday when Maddie and I went to Lytell's after school.  Maddie thought I should get them a present even if I was scared of what was going to happen later on. 

Then it was time to give them their card.  Tim picked it out because he didn't want to sign his name on something with flowers on it and I couldn't read the fancy writing on some of them. 

The card had a black and white picture of two old, frumpy looking people on it.  I couldn't read all the words on it, but Daddy read it out loud.  "George and Roberta Mac Cleland would like to take the time to wish you a happy anniversary."  Then Daddy opened the card and he read, "And you thought they wouldn't remember!"  Then he read the part that we wrote.  "Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad.  Love, Tim, Kathleen, and Regan." 

Mama and Daddy laughed at the card, then Daddy turned it over and both he and Mama started laughing even harder.  Tim was trying not to laugh and I was wondering what the heck was so funny.  I stood on tiptoe and craned my neck to see it.  It was a smaller picture of the two old frumpy people and underneath were the words "We believe in the rotary phone."  I didn't get the joke. 

On the way to the bus, Kathleen said to me, "Mom and Dad liked my present better." 

"I don't know," I said.  "Mr. Warren, the third grade teacher wears that Brut stuff and it stinks really bad.  At least my present doesn't stink."  Before she could say anything, I ran to the bus. 

* * *

 

When I got home from school, Mama wasn't home yet.  She usually got home after five, but today she said she was leaving at four instead.  Daddy wasn't in the kitchen, but I heard the shower going.  It looked like he brought in some wood for the fireplace and I wondered why if they weren't going to be home. 

Sitting in the middle of the kitchen table was a vase of red roses that wasn't there this morning.  Kathleen said, "Oooh!  Flowers!" before she stuck her nose in them. 

"I bet those are for Mama," I said.  "And you shouldn't be sticking your nose in them before she gets to see them."

"I can if I want," she said.  "They smell nice." 

"They won't be nice if you get your boogers all over them," I said to her. 

"I don't have boogers," Kathleen said hotly. 

"Yes, you do, Booger Head," I replied. 

"Take it back, Ray-gun," she said.  She knows I hate it when people say my name wrong.  It's Ree-gan, not Ray-gun like the President of the United States. 

"I won't, Booger Head," I retorted. 

"Feeb," she called me.

"Dork," I said back to her. 

"Geek," she said.

"Tammy Faye Mangan," I said back to her. 

"That's enough," Daddy said severely.  He was standing in the doorway in his robe and his hair was all wet. "Both of you."  Neither of us heard him come into the room, so we both jumped when we heard him.  "Those flowers are for your mother," he said.  "Stay out of them." 

"Told you," I whispered to Kathleen.  Daddy gave me That Look.  That Look was enough to stall any further arguments.  Then he turned around and went back to his room. 

Neither me nor Kathleen said anything for a bit, but then she said hotly, "I know what that card says." 

I couldn't read the card because it was written in cursive and I didn't know cursive yet.  Next year in the third grade I would.  "So?" I said.  I didn't want to be reminded that I didn't know how to read cursive. 

"It says, 'Regan is a dork.  Let's take her back to the hospital.'"

"It does not," I said. 

"It says," I heard my brother say as he walked into the kitchen from the service porch.  "Kathleen is a dork.  Let's take her back to the hospital." 

"Shut up," Kathleen said.  Tim just laughed at her. 

"Don't dish it out if you can't take it," he said. 

"I have to go and pack," she said.  I had to pack, too, and I thought I should go up and do that. 

"So what does it really say?" I asked Tim.

"It says 'Happy Anniversary, Michelle.  Love, Dan.'"

"That's sweet," I said. 

"If it said, 'Happy Anniversary to my little Muffy Wuffy from your Snuggle Bear, then it wouldn't be sweet," Tim said. 

"What would it be then?" I asked.

"Nauseating," he replied.  "Enough to make you want to puke.  That's what Mikey's parents call each other when they think nobody else is around."  Tim pretended to stick his finger down his throat. 

I heard the door to the service porch open and close and then I heard Mama say, "Now what's so nauseating?" 

"Hi, Mama!" I said. 

"What Mikey's parents call each other," Tim said. 

"Do I want to know?" Mama asked. 

"No," Tim said. 

"You're home," I heard Daddy say as he walked into the kitchen and over to Mama.  This time, he was dressed.  Then he kissed her and not in the usual, quick way they did when one of them came home.  They seemed to forget that me and Tim were still in the room.  I looked at Tim and he looked at me and he did that thing with his finger again.  I giggled.  Mama and Daddy didn't seem to hear me.  But I wished they would stop because I wanted to see Mama when she noticed the flowers on the table. 

"Excuse me," Tim said loudly.  "Kids in the room." 

Mama and Daddy stopped kissing.  Then Mama noticed the flowers and she said to Daddy, "They're beautiful!" 

Then Daddy said, "Not as beautiful as you are."  Daddy framed Mama's face with his hands and he was smiling at her and she was smiling back at him and I thought that this was kind of neat, but kind of yucky at the same time. 

"I'm getting out of here before I end up in therapy," Tim said.  Then he motioned to me to follow him and I did just as Mama and Daddy started kissing in the yucky way again. 

"I'll help you pack," Tim said to me.  We went up to my room and I found the overnight bag.  I went into my drawers to find my favorite pair of pajamas and I put those in the bag.  Tim was looking in the other drawers to find me some clothes for tomorrow, but he looked confused and he gave up. 

"I heard what you said to Mom and Dad last night.  About dying and stuff," he said. 

"You did?" I said. 

"Sometimes I get scared that I'm going to be an orphan, too," he said quietly.  "Dad was my age when he became an orphan, and sometimes I get scared about that."  Then he added quickly.  "But don't tell anybody, Regan." 

Tim had to be cool.  He was thirteen and he had to be cool and he didn't want people to think he was a baby or a big dork.  I wouldn't tell anyone.  He was my big brother and he was cool.

"I won't," I promised him.  "I won't tell anyone." 

* * *

 

Later, after Mama took her shower, she let me and Kathleen watch her get ready.  She sat down at a table that had a big mirror with lights on it and we watched her put on her make-up and do her hair.  She took some of it and put it up in these pearly looking combs while the rest of it hung down in the back.  Then she went into her bathroom and closed the door.  When Mama came back out, she had on a black dress that was zipped up only halfway.  She asked Kathleen to zip it up for her the rest of the way.

The dress was black and it looked kind of silky.  It was held up over Mama's shoulders by two thin straps.  Mama looked really pretty in that dress. 

"Daddy's going to be surprised," I said to her.  Mama smiled at me. 

Then Mama went into a jewelry box and got out a string of pearls that she said belonged to her mama.  She put the necklace on and then she took out a set of pearl earrings and put those in.  Mama had pierced ears and she said that I could get my ears pierced when I was old enough to take care of them.  Whatever that meant.  I don't know, though.  It's just holes. 

When she finished with that, she stepped into her shoes.  They were black high heels that Mama called pumps.  I don't know why they're called pumps, since they don't pump anything.  But they were shiny, just like my good pair of dress up shoes were black and shiny. 

Mama stood up and she looked at herself in the mirror.  There's this tall mirror in her room where you can see all of yourself in it. 

Kathleen said, "Mom, you look really nice."  Mama smiled at her. 

Then Mama told us to go and find Daddy and tell him that she was ready.  On the way out, Kathleen whispered to me, "I bet Daddy gets that funny look when he sees her."  I didn't disagree. 

Kathleen was right.  When Mama came out of the room and Daddy saw her, he got this goofy look and he said, "Oh wow!" 

Mama looked almost shy when she said, "You like it?"  That was weird because my Mama isn't shy at all.

Daddy smiled at her.  "I love it," he said. 

"You clean up real well yourself," Mama told Daddy.  I don't know what that meant, but Daddy looked really nice, too.  He was wearing a suit and a tie.  Daddy doesn't wear those very much.  Come to think of it, Mama doesn't dress up like she did tonight very much, either. 

It was time to go and Daddy helped Mama into her good coat.  It was long and it was made out of this itchy material and it was black.  Mama said it didn't itch when she wore it, though.  Daddy hollered upstairs for Tim and then we all got in the car to go to Maddie's house. 

I was still nervous about all this, but I remembered that Mama said they'd call me when they got to the restaurant.  Until they called me, I was going to be nervous. 

When we got there, Maddie was waiting for me at the door and watched as we piled out of the car.  Daddy helped Mama out of the car, even though she could get out all by herself.  When we got inside, Aunt Honey was gushing about how pretty Mama looked and I noticed that Uncle Mart wasn't wearing his pretend legs.  Mama and Daddy said something to them that I couldn't hear.  Maddie mentioned something to me about calling out for pizza tonight.  Aunt Honey took my bag and Kathleen's bag, but Tim took his own bag and set them down. 

Daddy looked at his watch and I guess it was time for them to go.  My stomach was feeling funny.  Mama told all of us to behave ourselves.  Then she leaned down and kissed my cheek first.  She did the same to Kathleen, who said, "I'm wearing make-up now, Mom."  Kathleen pointed at her cheek.  There was a mark there from Mama's lipstick.

"I'll let it slide just this once, " Mama said.  She only told Tim, "See you later."  Tim thought he was too old for hugs and kisses from Mama. 

"Later," he said. 

Then they left and I heard Mama's shoes clicking as she and Daddy went to the car.  My stomach was in tighter knots now.  Tim gave me a sympathetic look. 

My stomach felt better a half an hour later when I heard the phone ring and Aunt Honey called out to me that I had a phone call.  I raced to the phone.  Mama and Daddy made it to the restaurant just fine.  I felt so much better. 

During the evening, we ate pizza and watched some movies.  Maddie asked me if my parents liked the candy I gave them.  Tim was poking through Uncle Mart's record collection and asking about it.  Uncle Mart was only too happy to explain. 

It was a fun night.  I hoped that Mama and Daddy were having a good time, too.

* * *

 

Later, after Maddie and Kathleen were asleep, I woke up because I thought I heard this clicking sound.  It was coming closer to Maddie's bedroom door.  Maddie's door has a squeak and I heard the squeak as the door opened up.  I opened my eyes and I saw Mama and Daddy walk in.  I sat up. 

"What are you doing here?" I whispered. 

"We thought you'd want to know when we got home," Daddy whispered back. 

"You're going home now?  What time is it?" I asked.

"Almost midnight," Mama whispered. 

"Did you have fun?" I asked. 

Mama and Daddy looked at each other and smiled.  Then I noticed Mama's hand, the one with her wedding ring on it had another ring on the same finger.  It was a ring that wasn't there before.   It was really pretty and shiny and it had a diamond on it.

"Yes," she said.  "We had fun.  But now we're going home." 

"Okay," I said.  Then I yawned.  "Good night," I said.

Mama and Daddy each leaned down to give me a hug and a kiss.  "Good night, Regan," they said.  Then Daddy said, "See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," I said back.  I laid back down.

Mama and Daddy didn't leave right away.  They looked over at my sister, who was out cold.  And snoring, too.  I had an evil thought as to how I was going to use that against her when she got to be too much. 

Mama and Daddy quietly left the room and I drifted off to sleep, happy that they were happy and happy that they were still here.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted online in 2002.   
> Thank you for reading!


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